


Walk in Starlight

by thevorpalsword



Category: Star Trek, The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Andy is still immortal, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fluff without Plot, Found Family Feels, Future Fic, Human Trafficking, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Star Trek AU, Starfleet Academy, but here it is for your viewing pleasure, how do I even tag this, joe likes to troll academy students, look i dont know what this fever dream is, nile being a millennial and being excited about SPACE, no beta we die like men, the old guard but in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26117485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevorpalsword/pseuds/thevorpalsword
Summary: “Andy,” Nile whispers, delight hanging from each syllable. “Andy, we’re gonna go tospace.”(A small series of scenes wherein The Old Guard joins Starfleet.)
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 164
Kudos: 710
Collections: Good Readings (ymmv)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> do i know what this madness is? no. did anyone ask for it? also no. did i write it anyways? yep.
> 
> I wrote this in one sitting, hunched over my laptop while my dear friend Jaeh cheered me on. It is not edited or beta'ed so all mistakes are mine and I apologize for them.
> 
> Edited: fixed a few typos, and words that I repeated too often. Also changed the name of a language to its endonym, rather than the one I was taught which I have since learned can and is considered by some to be a slur.

(this is how it begins)

Nile sits perched on a split rail fence in Iowa, kicking her heels against the wood and idly popping her gum. She’s quiet, listening to the faint sounds of heavy machinery. The Riverside Shipyard is a good four miles from the small house she’s renting, but even at that distance it’s easy to make out the massive, shining metal skeleton that has taken shape on the horizon. It’s not the first one to be made here, but she’s been watching it grow and grow and grow for months now. Manufacturing a fake identity is harder in the 22th century than it was in the 21st, but not impossible. It makes Booker grumble up a storm however, so there’s always that at least. 

She hears her coming before she appears, so Nile doesn’t jump when Andy hands her a cold beer. The older woman doesn’t say anything, but it’s been decades and Nile can read paragraphs in the slope of her shoulders, the cant of her eyebrows, and arrangement of lines around her mouth. 

“Stop worrying,” Nile says, taking a swig of her beer. “Or,” Nile continues, “Try and worry less.”

“Hm. Not sure that’s possible.”

“I’ll be fine, not the newbie anymore, Andy. This isn’t exactly my first solo mission.”

“You’ll be paving the way for the rest of us,” Andy says slowly, “Being out front means you’re the most vulnerable.”

“You don’t think I can do it?”

“Nah, you’ll get it done. But we’re not meant to be alone. And you’re going to have to be alone for at least a couple of years.”

“I know, but I really, really want this. I’ll be okay.”

Andy sighs and taps her bottle against the rail that Nile is sitting on. 

“I mean, the ships are incredible and everything -”

“They are but that’s not where my excitement is coming from. I was born in the 20th century, Andy. I grew up on sci-fi and space odysseys. When I was a kid I was so disappointed when I realized that I’d probably be dead for centuries by the time humans figured out space travel.”

Andy downs half her beer in one go. She’ll readily admit that that wasn’t really something she could relate to. When she was a girl, imagining the future didn’t include things on this scale. Nowhere near this magnitude. (And by the time it did occur to her that she’d live long enough to see humans leave the planet that made them - well, childlike wonderment was pretty out of reach.)

She leans her arms on the rail and looks over at Nile who is still looking at the half completed star ship with hunger and joy. Andy smiles. 

“Well, I’m glad this immortality is good for something then,” she teases. Nile laughs. 

“Andy,” Nile whispers, delight hanging from each syllable. “Andy, we’re gonna go to  _ space _ .”

|||

“I don’t know why you insist on doing this to them, my love.” Nicky remarks, with a level of amused exasperation in his voice as he stares at his Joe from his spot in the front row of the lecture hall. Joe is sitting on the table in the front of the small auditorium, not looking at their bewildered fellow students. There’s only about a dozen of them, stragglers from Joe’s introductory level interstellar linguistics class that he’s TA-ing for at the Academy. 

“Because it’s good experience. They have to know that they can’t rely on the universal translator to save them anytime they’re confused. They need to learn to use their ears.”

“I...don’t,” one of the students says helplessly, his hands clutched around the small UT device staring at the screen. “This...isn’t a language - what  _ is this _ ?”

Nicky doesn’t allow his expression to change one iota from the bored indifference, although Joe can read the laughter in his glittering blue eyes. 

“It’s a good lesson, yes. But you should explain at least a little bit before you break their brains.”

“It’s not  _ a _ language,” one of the other students realizes aloud, leaning forward her eyes staring at Nicky. “It’s  _ several _ languages!” 

Joe beams at her, but doesn’t stop the delightful mishmash of Medieval Greek, Classical Latin, Genoese, Arabic and Tašlḥiyt that has always made up the personal love language that he has shared with his Nicky for more than a thousand years. 

“That’s the fastest anyone has caught on.”

“Perhaps the other students have begun warning the younger ones.”

“And rob me of my fun?”

Nicky gives an eloquent gallic shrug that Booker made sure to teach them all centuries ago.

“One day, one of your more enterprising students will create a subroutine to actually translate this accurately.” 

“That will be a fearful day,” Joe says around a salacious grin, “No one’s ears will be safe ever again.”

(The universal translator in the student’s hands gives a defeated beep, and presents the student with a result of: ???**&$#@>??)

|||

There comes a point where Andy is forced into hand to hand combat with a Klingon. They all thank their lucky stars there isn’t footage of the fight. Andy ends up an honorable discharge and leave Starfleet ahead of the rest of them. She’s lives too large in people’s memories for an entire generation. Quynh goes with her and the two spend the time retracing their earliest steps together, from the Gobi to the Sahara. A road long worn away under the march of progress, but one they carve out again just for the fun of it. 

The Klingons spend an entire generation attempting to replicate the labrys. They never quite get it right. 

|||

“Lt. Booker?”

“Hmm?” Booker distractedly looks up from his microscope to see one of his fellow researchers is hovering politely at the edge of the table. Working on Vulcan has been a trip and a half. The heat utterly sucks, but at least the sunburn heals quick. 

“Apologies Solbek,” Booker says calmly, “I was distracted - what can I do for you?”

“I had a query of a personal nature regarding a conversation I overheard you have 8 days ago.”

“...Alright,” Booker replies. Because what else is he supposed to say to that? He’s only been at this post for a few months, but he’s still trying to get used to the way the Vulcans are both direct and circumspect at the same time. He’d find it annoying if the Frenchman in him also didn’t find it utterly fascinating. 

“According to my research, Commander Freeman is your superior in rank and in experience, she joined Starfleet two years before you did.”

There’s a pause that Booker realizes he’s meant to fill just a second after it becomes an awkward pause. 

“That’s correct.” he replies anyway. 

“And yet, at multiple points in the conversation you appeared to engage in teasing behavior based on your superior experience over her.”

“That’s because I’m older.”

“But she has more experience.”

“Older brother’s prerogative. Doesn’t matter if she becomes the captain of her ship or even a fleet commander. I’m still older.”

“I see.” Solbek says, and Booker somehow doubts it. 

“Are you the eldest in your family?”

“Christ on a cracker - no. I’m one of the middle kids.”

“I have read numerous scientific articles on human psychology studying the make up the family units on Earth; I shall review them in light of this new information.”

Booker puts his face in his hands.

|||

Quynh likes the viewing deck the most. On her off hours she’ll stretch out in one of the chairs in a manner that the chair was not meant to be used and watch the stars zoom by. It’s never quiet on a star ship; the vessel is always humming its song. 

Sometimes, sometimes, when it’s just her and Andy on the deck. Her lover’s hands tangled in her own, both of them indolent and content - Quynh swears she can hear the stars singing back. 

|||

Of course Nile becomes Captain of her starship - was there ever any doubt? She turns down the opportunity for Commodore though, and instead retires. Starfleet is bewildered by the decision, after all Captain Freeman is only in her early forties when she returns to Earth. A hundred years or so later,  Starfleet is incredibly pleased when Capt. Freeman’s granddaughter joins up. It’s always nice to see family legacies carry down that yearning desire to return to the stars.

(Nile is  _ incredibly _ good at hacking by the time the 23th century rolls around. Hacking and Photoshop.)

|||

Nicky and Joe get married for the seventy-third time for both fun and to ensure they get to share a bunk on the ship. This is for them and for everyone else too. They hadn’t managed to dorm together during their first year at the Academy and their assigned roommates were  _ quite perturbed _ about that fact. 

As it is, Lt. Jones spends an  _ inordinate _ amount of in sickbay. Not because he’s in need of their services, but because his husband “looks stunning in his uniform, have you seen how his eyes  _ glow _ ? How am I meant to resist that, I am but a human.”

“Joe, my heart, light of my life, you are  _ in the way _ .” Nicky sighs at his husband while cataloging what was used from the supply closet at the end of his shift. 

Joe, unrepentant, moves out of the way so Nicky can scan the row of packaged syringes on the shelving unit he still leans on. 

“After dinner can we head down to Sciences? The greenhouses will be having a blooming cycle this evening, we can stroll through the gardens.”

“We can do anything you like,” Nicky promises his husband, a small smile already tugging at one corner of his mouth. Joe steals a kiss from that corner. “If you let me finish up this quickly. I want a shower as soon as possible.”

“Long shift?”

“One of the engineers managed to completely crush his leg in some machinery he was not meant to be tinkering with. I’m afraid I’ve still got patches of dried blood on me under these scrubs.”

“Hmm, we haven’t been covered in blood in  _ a while _ .”

“It has made for a nice change.”

“Lieutenant!” The CMO thunders from outside the supply closet, ripping the door open and glaring at Joe.

“Why are you cluttering up my sickbay?” the man demands. 

“Just here to pick up my husband, sir!” Joe replies.

“From inside the supply closet? His shift doesn’t end for another twelve minutes, Jones. Go wait elsewhere.”

Nicky puts a firm hand on Joe’s back and gently pushes him out of the closet. 

“I’ll meet you on Deck 7 in an hour, hayati.”

“I shall count the minutes.”

“Jesus Christ, please  _ go away _ . Who decided to let the two of you serve together, I want to lodge a complaint.”

|||

Booker flicks his phaser to kill, and nods his head at Nile. The two push against one another, rolling out on opposite sides of their small cover to fire at the smugglers who have pinned them down in the cargo bay. They draw heavy fire the instant they’re visible, but keep moving in opposite directions. Nile takes at least two shots to the torso - phaser fire  _ burns _ in a way that slug rounds never did - and curses her way behind another stack of crates. She glances frantically around to see that Booker thankfully has also made it to his own small bit of cover as well. 

The burns heal over quickly while Nile pokes a finger through the hole in her uniform, annoyed. She likes her command gold, and she hates having to constantly requisition new shirts. 

The smugglers have ceased firing for the moment, and she can hear them murmuring frantically at each other from their position at the main entrance to the cargo bay. Booker and her are technically trapped in here; although Quyhn would gleefully point out that the smugglers are really trapped in here with  _ them _ . 

Speaking of Quynh - there’s a terrified shout from the group of smugglers and phaser fire starts up again, this time in a different direction. Nile sneaks a look over her crate towards the entrance just in time to see phaser fire coming from down one of the hallways take out two of the enemies in quick succession. Andy’s labrys flies by to sink into someone’s shoulder with a meaty thunk. With this knot of enemies sufficiently distracted, Nile takes off deeper into the cargo bay, trusting Booker to hold off that end and watch her back. 

She finds three dead bodies on her dash through bay 4 and 5, along with one more who’s not long for this world. Through the last set of space doors into the final bay area she finds five more smugglers hunkered down behind a stack of crates, taking fast pot shots with their phasers at a small shuttle that’s powered up and ready to leave. The shuttle has its shield up and the phasers aren’t making a bit of difference. 

Nicky and Joe are rushing a group of small children, human and alien alike up the ramp. Even at this distance Nile can see the kids are rail thin, some are even still in cuffs or chains. The kids are scared witless, but Joe and Nicky are doing an incredible job keeping them focused away from the smugglers that are angrily shouting at them, impotently raging from their spot behind the crates. 

One of the smugglers makes the  _ stupid _ decision to attempt to rush the shuttle. Diving out from behind the crates and barreling forward with a snarl. Nile has her phaser up and is about to announce her presence when Nicky pulls his own weapon from his hip and fires a single shot. The smuggler drops, a smoking hole in his forehead. Nicky is almost 1200 years old at this point, and when his blue eyes, icy with anger and rage fix on the other smugglers, Nile can  _ feel _ the weight of those years. 

Wisely, none of the other smugglers makes an attempt on the shuttle. 

Joe moves the rest of the children onto the shuttle while Nicky stands, resolute at the bottom of the ramp, his phaser at the ready. He knows she’s there, and she gives a couple of hand signs, rapidly informing him of her plan. Nicky shifts one foot behind the other, which is acknowledgement enough for her. 

Nile starts with the enemy on the outer edge furthest from Nicky, and manages to kill two of them before the rest reorient against the new threat. The second that they take their eyes off the shuttle, Nicky is running. His long legs eat up the distance and Nile only has to dodge two phaser blasts before he’s there, vaulting one of the crates and reigning holy hell on the remaining two before they can get a proper bead on her.

“Any more kids?” Nile asks quickly.

“Scans say no,” Nicky replies just as fast, holstering his phaser and hopping down from the crate. 

“You don’t trust the scans?” 

“There’s some kind of separate climate controlled room off Bay 3 that we can’t get readings from. We need to clear it to be sure.” Nicky bends down to start rifling through the corpses.

“Okay,” Nile taps her badge and opens the comm channel that they’ve set up for them all to use. “One room off Bay 3 that needs checking. Joe, stay on the shuttle, Nicky and I will clear it. Booker, report.”

“Finishing up clean up, Captain,” Booker chimes in. “Andy’s determined to find the leader of this shit pile. Might need a few more minutes.”

“Copy that. Quynh can you wipe the security feeds?”

“Already on it, once I’m done I’ll join Joe on the shuttle.”

“Good, everyone plan to be out in 5.”

There’s not an answering confirmation, they don’t need to give one, Nile knows they’ll be there. Nicky stands, holding up a handful of flimsy data cards only a little covered in blood. The ship they’re on is a much older model, honestly Nile is reluctantly impressed that it’s still air tight. The older security tech still uses data cards to open doors and portals, hopefully one of the ones Nicky has fished out will unlock the unscannable room. 

The two of them jog back through the bays, Nicky approaches the door and quickly cycles through the cards in his hand until one of them light up the locking mechanism a cheerful green. The door slides open and Nile holds her phaser at the ready just in case.

The two immortals poke their heads in the dark room when nothing instantly jumps out at them, eyes widening when they see what’s stored in the cramped space. 

“Huh.” Nile remarks, “This, I was not expecting.”

“Is that a  _ crocodile? _ ” Nicky asks, stunned. 

The crocodile in question hisses at the intruders from his narrow cage. It’s a pitiful sound, the poor animal is clearly suffering. The other animals in the room make noises of shock, fear or anger too. Nile recognizes several endangered species from Earth, and can only guess at the origins of several animals she doesn’t know. 

“I guess they weren’t just in the business of moving sentients?” Nile half states, half asks. 

“How are we going to get them on the shuttle?” Nicky asks. “We can’t leave them here.”

“Of course not. Go find a lift, we’ll have to roll them down to the shuttle. I hope this doesn’t freak the kids out too much.”

(They manage to cram all 17 cages, and 32 children onto the small Starfleet shuttle; though it does take some impressive tetris-ing of both parties. In the end, the kids are largely delighted by their animal companions and rescuers alike. Joe is a clear favorite, as is, to everyone’s amusement, the crocodile.

Starfleet doesn’t know what to do with the group when they limp back to their ship except to put commendations in everyone’s file and try to forget the entire ordeal.)

|||

After they retire from Starfleet the first time, Nile spends the first decade itching to get back up there. It surprises her how badly she longs for space and the hum of a ship around her. It’s a strange, subtle agony to not fly. 

That’s not to say they don’t stay busy. Earth is still Earth, and humans are still humans. Things have gotten so much better, but there are still people out there that need to be stopped. They even take a few jobs off planet, working out of a small unregistered ship. But with how prevalent Starfleet is in Alpha quadrant, and just how famous Andy and Nile had become there at the end, they decide discretion is the best choice and ground themselves firmly for the next eighty years. 

“Nicky feels the same you know,” Joe remarks to Nile one evening when the two are sitting out on the back porch of one of their safe houses in what used to be South Africa. Nile is looking up at the night sky, thinking about the different stars she’s seen up close. 

“Really?” Nile is somewhat surprised. 

“Oh yes. Seafaring is in Nicolo’s blood after all.”

“That’s...not really the same thing though is it?”

“Mmm, it’s not an exact parallel, no. But I think they’re still called ships for a good reason. It’s one of the few things he misses about the 17th century. Although, I must say, I definitely prefer this century’s ships. Much more privacy.”

Nile laughs. She is also, intensely grateful that the two of them always had their own bunk on whatever ship they were on. 

“Does he want to do a different track next time?”

“He’s mentioned helmsman, perhaps navigation.”

“What about you?”

“Well, at least one of us has to be in medical. I don’t mind doing that. You?”

“I guess I probably shouldn’t do command again,” Nile remarks. She’s given it some thought of course, and given the accolades she’d earned it would probably be best if she stayed under the radar next go around. “Maybe engineering? I think I’d like to learn more about warp cores. Get to know the hearts of the ships better; learn about how they carry us along from star to star.”

“You speak of them like that, and I think to myself: she was born for this. You were born to traverse the stars, Nile Freeman. You will walk in their light for the rest of your existence.”

Nile smiles at him, and he draws her into a one armed hug. 

“You know, back when y’all first brought me in and I was waffling between disbelief and panic - there was a tiny piece of me that’s perpetually 8 years old, and all that part of me could focus on was: does this mean I get to live to see space travel?”

Joe chuckles, “Somehow, this does not surprise me.” He places a fond kiss on the crown of her head. “We’ll be back up there soon.”

The door behind them opens and Nicky comes padding out on bare feet, an open bottle of wine in hand. 

“Room for another?” He asks. Joe instantly raises his other arm in invitation. 

“Always,” Joe replies. Nicky sits down and slides in close. He hands the bottle off and the three pass it freely between them. 

“It is a shame we have to wait so long between enlistments,” Nicky sighs, and Nile can see a similar longing in his eyes, just like Joe said. It’s not quite the same as hers, less burn, less agony. But the core yearning for the feeling of being in motion again, is there.

“Joe said you wanna be a helmsman next time?” Nile asks. Nicky hums an affirmative. 

“What do you think Booker wants to do?” 

The screen door swings behind them again, “Booker wants to do anything that doesn’t involve a lab again. I got my fill of microbiology for this century and the next one too.” The man in question remarks as he shuffles out onto the porch as well. 

They all know why he picked microbiology as his focus. They all know that he hadn’t found anything. They all know that he’s coming to terms with it. They’re all very proud of him for it.

“Navigation?” Joe asks. 

“Maybe. I was thinking computer science, but I guess that just puts me in a different kind of lab.”

The screen door swings open one more time. 

“You could always just do security,” Andy points out. The porch has no railing, so she just sits and dangles her feet off the edge. Quynh sits gracefully next to her. 

“Boring.” Booker retorts.

“I want to do communications.” Andy declares with a sharp toothed smile. Joe, who had no end of fun at the Academy and at every posting as a linguistics expert, cackles. 

“You’ll shock every single person by rolling up to the Academy and translating Linear A as first year.” Nicky points out dryly. 

“I would never,” Andy replies, mock offended. “That would hardly help us stay anonymous, would it?”

“Quynh?” Nile asks, curious. 

“Mmm, I don’t know yet. We did security this time and it was fine. Booker is correct, it was rather boring.”

“Didn’t you two set the class record for most away missions in a year, every year, for like 7 years in a row?” Joe asks. 

“Yes. Like I said, boring.”

They all laugh. It’s an old set up and joke, but it still tickles them, even after all this time. 

Nile glances around at her family, all of them bathed in starlight. Nicky has turned his nose into Joe’s neck and sneaks an arm around his waist. They’re not saying anything with their mouths, but Nile can see the sweep of Joe’s thumb across Nicky’s collarbone, and the reply of Nicky’s free hand on Joe’s thigh. Booker is leaning against one of the porch’s pillars, eyes closed, but face turned into the sweet breeze rolling across the field to them, content and at ease. Quynh steals the bottle of wine from Andy, despite the other woman’s quiet protest and polishes off what’s left with a smile. 

Nile rests her head on Joe’s shoulder and sighs. She wants back up there, back up amongst the stars, traveling, seeing new worlds, and exploring the depths of whatever the universe has to offer. 

But there’s time enough for that later. For now, Nile happily enjoys this moment, cherishes it. Because  _ this  _ is what she’ll never get enough of. This right here, her family, happy, safe and together. 

|||

(this is how it ends)

...it doesn’t. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew, what the hell, right? Honestly, I have no idea. I, like many of you (I think) fell in love with these characters after seeing the movie. I've been mainlining fanfiction ever since. Serious shout out to all the content creators out there who have been feeding this addiction. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this, and if you liked it I hope you'll leave me a kudos or a comment. Stay safe, everyone. <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

(this is also how it starts)

“I won’t go without you guys, so if you say no, then it’s a no,” Nile says to the room that holds her family. She is saying it to all of them of course, but she’s saying it to one more than the others. Quynh raises her chin in challenge, and Nile doesn’t look away. 

“I have...concerns,” Nicky says, surprising most of them. Except Joe of course, he wordlessly takes the hand of his husband where they sit at ease on the couch. 

“Okay, let’s hear ‘em,” Nile invites. 

“If we do this, how will we hide what we are? Medical technology has gotten so much better in the past two hundred years - if we are injured, or knocked unconscious these new tricorders will definitely catch us.”

Nile nods, “So I thought about that. If we did this, I think one of us would need to do medical track. And if weird readings happen, they’d have to delete them or overwrite them. Basically be on hand to filter out the weird stuff.”

“Hmm, it would not be the first time one of us went to medical school,” Joe says. 

“Nor the last,” Booker adds. 

“That would help mitigate the risk,” Andy agrees. Nicky nods, and leans back for the moment satisfied. 

A silence falls as they all consider the true elephant in the room. 

“I don’t want to get spaced,” Nile says, deciding that she’ll do it herself if they won’t. “I can’t imagine dying over and over out in the black, forever.”

“Probably wouldn’t be forever,” Booker points out, “I mean. We’d eventually fall into a star, right?”

“Incineration at the atomic level,” Andy says slowly. “That sounds…”

“Horrible,” Nicky finishes. 

“Starfleet comms are also trackers,” Nile points out. “And the comms are part of the uniform. And Starfleet doesn’t...they don’t leave bodies behind if they don’t have too. Transporter technology means that it’s not even like we’d have to be scooped up or anything, just beamed aboard.”

“And when we come back on the transporter pad?” Quynh asks, speaking for the first time since Nile announced to the room that she desperately wanted to join Starfleet. “What then?”

“Well, I guess that depends. It  _ is _ possible to survive for a little bit in space. We could make the case that we got lucky if the time was short enough. If it isn’t, then we’d have to get creative and probably go AWOL. But this is why I won’t go without you all. I can’t run those kinds of risks by myself. If one or two of us gets spaced, we’d  _ have _ to have the others on board for even a chance at escaping.”

They all pause to digest that. 

“This is important to you, yes?” Joe asks suddenly, changing tacks effortlessly. 

Nile swallows tightly. “Yea, it is.”

“I vote we go.” Joe replies. Nicky just gives her a silent nod, his quiet little half smile tilting one corner of his mouth. Nile can see in his eyes though, he might be just as excited as she is. 

Andy chews her lip. Nile wonders if she even realizes that she’s holding Quynh’s hand so tightly that her knuckles have gone white. 

“This isn’t...this isn’t a danger we’re familiar with,” Andy points out. 

Quynh pats their joined hands with her free one, catching her lover’s attention. 

“It is though,” she corrects gently. “It’s just in a new  _ place,  _ the people are the same. The chance of discovery, of capture, of...being trapped. That’s all the same.”

“Space, the final frontier.” Booker intones, with a mock seriousness. 

“Will it be?” Andy replies. “Will it really be the final one?”

Quynh shrugs, at last, a smile tugging at the edges of her lips. “I don’t know. So let’s go find out.”

|||

The red alert tears Nile’s heart in two. She tried to prepare for this. Andy tried to prepare her for this - but the fact of the matter is, words only get anyone so far. The visceral combination of fear, and desperation and  _ guilt _ that lances through her is...breath-taking in the worst way. 

“Shields up,” Nile snaps, projecting her voice over the flurry of shouts that have filled the bridge. At those two words, shouted with the full weight of her command, their training takes over; and they all turn to their workstations and get down to the business of defending their ship and fellow crewmates. The threat is currently unknown, but she knows her people, and they will have the information she needs. 

“Jones,” Nile calls, turning slightly in her captain’s chair to catch sight of Joe, bent over his station, hands flying over the screen as he combs the airwaves for any hint of a transmission from whatever ship has just fired on them. “Send a distress signal to the Saratoga and the Okinawa, they should still be in warp range.”

“On it, Captain.”

She taps the comms on her chair, “Engineering, what’s the damage?”

“We’re holding alright Captain, there’s minor breaches on Deck 4 from whatever they hit us with, but there’s no personnel down there, and the bulkheads are already closed off. No major damage to any vital systems.”

“Keep me apprised of the vital systems status, direct to my chair please.”

“Of course, Captain.”

“Anything on scanners?” Nile asks her First Officer. Kara hisses at her station and shakes her head.

“Nothing yet, Captain. The computers are telling me those hits came from nowhere.”

“Well we all know that’s absolutely false, Helmsman, swing us around to face the port side, bearing 45.21 and drops us a little while you’re at it.”

“Aye, Capt-”

He breaks off to brace himself against the helm as another hit rocks the ship. The shields out the viewscreen light up a hazy blue but hold. 

“What the ever loving  _ fuck- _ ”

A Klingon warbird ship appears against the backdrop of stars as their ship finishes swinging around, and Nile internally swears. Fucking  _ great _ .

Nile’s comms go haywire at that point, and the tinny voice of a panicked crewmember filters through the speakers.

“Captain! There are intruders on board. Party of eight, unknown species, but they beamed aboard right before the first hit. Scanners have them heading towards Engineering!”

“Acknowledged, send the scanner tracking them to the First Officer’s station.” Nile orders and cuts the line. She clicks her comms over to shipwide.

“This is the Captain speaking - all Security personnel: there are intruders on board. A party of eight, likely Klingon, currently on Deck,” Nile flicks her eyes to Kara who dutifully holds up eight fingers, “Eight. They are likely armed and dangerous. Security, locate and dispatch. All other crew members: shelter in place until the all clear is given. Freeman out.”

“Jones, security feeds on screen please,” Nile orders without looking over her shoulder. Joe casts the feeds up on the front view port and sure enough, a group of heavily armed Klingons are currently booking it down a walkway in the water treatment section, heading for the stairs that lead down into the heart of Engineering.

At the end of the walkway, a Security officer steps calmly onto the walkway, her phaser up and aimed at the leader of the intruders. The entire enemy boarding party halts. 

“Captain!” Joe announces suddenly. “We’re being hailed by the enemy ship!”

Nile feels that splintering feeling again. She wants to be down there with Andy, because  _ of course it’s Andy _ . With Quynh, who she  _ knows _ is stealthily sneaking up behind the Klingons. She wants to  _ help _ in a more present way than barking out orders into her comms, and managing people who all already know what they’re doing.

But she can’t. She’s the captain, and this is what she signed up for. Nile sets her jaw, and tears her eyes away from the tense stalemate that is happening on Deck Seven. Instead, right as one of the Klingons fires the opening volley of shots at Andy, Nile snaps:

“On screen.”

|||

Booker goes down to Engineering first. It’s an open secret about distilleries in space ships. Their fine lady is no different, and one of the interns on Delta shift owes him a huge favor. He doesn’t even have to really ask, just gives the kid a  _ look _ and they sheepishly scurries off for a few minutes. Several mysterious clinking noises later, Booker has a half full bottle of something amber and  _ exceedingly _ strong smelling and he doesn’t care if this pickles his insides he’s drinking all of it. 

Booker gives them a tight nod. “We’re even. Next time make sure to use protection if you’re gonna fuck random spacers, okay?”

They turn bright red, but give him a nod back. 

“You still won’t say anything, right?”

“Of course not. But seriously, next time you want an STD test just go to Medical.”

“But that ends up on my record!”

“Your highly classified, protected medical record. So again. Next time, wrap it up, and get tested. You’re not immortal, stop acting like it.”

He turns on his heel and storms out, before he says anything else. 

The greenhouses on Deck 7 aren’t really what he wants - he desperately wants to be home on Earth right now. But they’ll do. Especially since right now they’re on a night cycle which means it’s easy for Booker to find a quiet, dark corner between some vegetable beds and a smallish apple tree in a huge pot, where he can curl up and get just...hideously drunk.

The booze is mostly alcohol and it fucking burns like phaser fire going down. Within minutes his head is swimming. 

It doesn’t make him feel better, really. Just...further away from the bad, if that makes sense. 

Joe finds him when he’s down to the last inch of the bottle. 

The older man doesn’t say anything, just meets Booker’s hazy, unfocused gaze for a couple of heart beats. Joe then shuffles over, wedges himself in next to Booker, and sits down as well. He takes the bottle from Booker’s unresisting fingers, swallows a mouthful, chokes it down, and then hands it back. 

“What -” Joe coughs tightly into his fist, “the fuck - is that?”

“I dunno,” Booker slurs. “Got it from Engineering.”

“God above, that is foul, Booker.”

“Yea, it’s awful. My stomach hurts.”

“Do you want me to get Nicky?”

“Nah. If it kills me I’ll probably get better fast than he can fix me up.”

Joe sighs. “That’s not the point, Booker. You don’t have to sit here in pain, just because it’s easier to do so. Nicky won’t mind, he’d probably prefer helping, you know that.”

Booker presses his forehead to the bottle, knocking it against his skull a couple of times.

“Yea,” he replies quietly, “I know.”

And he  _ does _ . It took a 100 year banishment from the team, finding Quynh, finally talking to his family about his pain and finding solace and understanding in them - but he  _ does _ know. His family will always help him up, no matter what. They’ll always want to soothe his hurts, heal his breaks and listen to his woes; he just has to ask.

Joe taps his comms and murmurs quietly into it in that private language he and Nicky share. He then falls silent. 

“He’s on his way.”

“Mmm.”

Booker reaches out and taps the leaf of a tomato plant hanging from one of the planter boxes and drooping down near his shoulder. Water droplets slide off the leaf and onto the back of his hand. It feels blessedly cool.

“You know what I’ve been doing on the side, right?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t find anything.”

Joe drums his fingers against his knee. He drapes his other arm around Booker’s shoulders and tugs him in closer. 

“I didn’t find  _ anything _ ,” Booker says again, trying to make Joe understand the magnitude of that. “I mapped out my genome in its entirety, tested countless samples for real time mutations, checked and rechecked for foreign substances or alien DNA and...nothing. There’s...nothing. On paper we’re perfectly normal humans. I’ve fucking watched our cells replicate in the most advanced microscopes in the fucking galaxy and there’s nothing abnormal, or extraordinary about any of it. We just...regenerate faster. So fast that we heal, or come back, and we don’t age. That’s it. There’s no why, no explanation, it just...happens.”

There’s a quiet swish of a door on the other side of the room. Even at this distance, Booker can tell it’s Nicky just from the quiet way the man walks across the gravel with an even stride. 

“I’m sorry, Booker. I know that’s not what you wanted.” Joe says quietly. “But...at least you know for sure now. There really is no way you could have shared the gift with your family. You  _ know _ now that it’s beyond us.”

Booker looks up, and raises his bloodshot eyes to his friend, his brother, and gives him a helpless look. Nicky rounds the corner and spies them in the shadows easily.

“There you are,” he greets them and comes over to join them. He sits down gracefully in front of the both of them, crossing his legs to mirror their posture and unzipping the small medical bag he brought with him. 

“I thought the knowledge would make me feel better,” Booker says as tears begin to escape his eyes and run down his cheeks. “It doesn’t. I just feel more hollow.”

Joe presses into his side even more, his arm strong and unyielding around his shoulders, as if he is somehow trying to pull Booker away from his own feelings, shield him somehow from the turmoil. 

“It really wasn’t my fault,” Booker chokes out around his tears, “But it doesn’t matter - they still hated me anyways.”

“Oh Sebastian,” Nicky whispers, putting a warm hand on Booker’s knee. 

“I just...I just, I want them back. Please. I just want them back. Why did they have to hate me? I would have traded places with them in a heartbeat if I could! I didn’t want this. I  _ didn’t _ . Why was it so easy to hate me?”

Booker’s world dissolves into tears completely at that point and all he knows is the warm touch of his brothers as they try to anchor him through it. His breathing goes weird, and the pain in his stomach that he’d been ignoring blooms into something a little more immediate. But before he can cry out, He feels Nicky’s warm hand on his neck and hears the hiss of a hypo spray. It all goes dark after that.

When Booker comes to, he’s warm, laying on his back, with his right arm pinned under something. Cracking his eyes slowly, he realizes that he’s in Andy and Quynh’s quarters, and that Nile is asleep on his arm. He cranes his neck a little, and sees Joe and Nicky sitting on the floor across from the bed, leaned up against the wall and on each other - fast asleep. Andy is sprawled out on his other side, and Quynh is curled up at the foot of the bed, one hand on his ankle. 

Physically, he feels fine. The pains in his stomach are completely gone, and the haze of alcohol is nothing but a memory. The grief feels far more present now, a spiked ball, a frozen lump in his throat that he can’t swallow past. 

But...it’s bearable. The guilt that has haunted him for so long, clung to his skin, and lived in his ribs, feels...lessened. Not gone of course, but more like he set some of it down somewhere, and it didn’t come back. He may have found nothing of import under his microscopes, but that doesn’t mean that he gained nothing from the experience. 

Booker casts his eyes back around his little family. His brothers and sisters who have stuck with him, no matter what he did, or how far he pushed them. 

He knows he still has a lot of healing to do. Still has a lot to learn about how to carry the burden of his grief so it doesn’t crush him; and maybe, just maybe, how to set down more of his guilt. But he’s so incredibly grateful that he doesn’t have to do it alone.

|||

By the time Nicky stumbles back to his and Joe’s shared quarters, Gamma shift is half over. He’s been awake for over twenty four hours and God he can feel every single one of them. Exhaustion is a special kind of awful, Nicky thinks. It’s one of those things that always makes everything else happening worse. A compound despair. 

The Chief Medical Officer had finally given the all clear for their triage cases and anyone who’d been awake for more than 16 hours was sent off to rest. Nicky had to be up in just eight short hours to relieve the poor sods who were stuck working through the night; but that was fine. So long as he got to be horizontal for most of them he’d bounce back. 

Nicky rubbed at his eyes and blindly slapped his hand over the scanner outside his door. It slid open with a soft swish and Nicky stepped inside. The room was pitch dark, only briefly illuminated by the hallway lights. Tired as he is, Nicky would have to be dead not to automatically take in the details of the room in that split second. Especially considering the sight that greets him. 

The door slides closed behind him, but Joe’s relaxed and recumbent figure was burned into his memory. His husband was asleep, naked, and sprawled out across most of the bed. In the dark, Nicky could hear his deep, even breaths and knew he was well and truly out for the night. That was fair - Nicky may have been elbow deep in people’s insides for the past day, but Joe had pulled something like 18 hours on the bridge, helping Nile through her first pitched space battle as a captain. 

He huffed a quiet laugh, and hoped that Nile was also getting some well deserved sleep. It’s not every day a Captain has to not only strategize a battle with a cloaked and hostile Klingon vessel, but also coordinate the pursuit and capture of Klingon invaders on their precious ship. 

Nicky made a mental note to ask Quynh if Andy  _ really _ had beheaded one of the Klingon boarders with her labrys. 

(It’s not that he didn’t think it was possible, it was more like he really hoped someone had gotten that on camera. They’d delete it of course, but Nicky knows that the Klingon’s pride themselves on their warrior prowess. It would be  _ something _ to see that pride come up against Andy and fail.)

Nicky carefully navigates blind to the ‘fresher. A sonic shower would be quicker, but a water shower would help him sleep better. Even though it’s been more than four years in space, he’s still not used to sonics. They don’t make him feel clean the way water showers do. And after the day he’s had, water is the only thing that’s going to do it. Still, he powers through it as quick as he can, dries off and changes into some clean boxers. He makes sure to turn the lights off before opening the door; and then quietly stumbles to dump his clothes in the chute. That done he shuffles over happily,  _ finally, _ to his reward.

Joe has moved in his sleep while Nicky was in the shower. He’s curled over onto his side and yanked a sheet half way up his bare form. There’s an empty space waiting for him in the curve of his husband’s body, and Nicky gratefully crawls over and settles right in. He flails around a bit, trying not to wake Joe, but gently grasps his wrist and tugs Joe’s arm over his waist before pulling the blanket up the rest of the way to cover them both. 

There’s a soft sigh behind him, and Nicky feels Joe stir at his back. The arm he had pulled over his waist, curls and tugs Nicky back more firmly. Joe’s hand flattens against his bare chest, right over his heart. Nicky feels the touch of his husband’s face against his nape, a much loved smile curling familiar lips. Joe takes in a deep breath and then hums, pleased. The smile turns into kisses, soft and only a little wet, treading a quiet little path down from his neck to his shoulder. Nicky presses his hand on top of Joe’s. 

“Hello, my heart,” Joe whispers in their shared language. The endearment is in Derja this time. It’s always a treat to see which language he’ll use; they like to switch them up depending on the exact shade of love they’re feeling at any given moment. 

“Mmm, hello, my love,” Nicky replies, picking Genoese for his reply. “How long have you been asleep?”

“Not sure. An hour maybe.”

“You deserve several days worth,” Nicky says. He’s moved to tracing the back of Joe’s hand with gentle fingers; feeling out the tendons and bones that make up this miraculous part of his lover’s cherished body. 

“Me? How many surgeries did you do today, Nicolo? How many bodies did you heal with your steady hands and unshakable focus?” Joe flips his hand in Nicky’s grasp, captures Nicky’s fingers and laces them together so they’re pressed palm to palm. 

“I honestly couldn’t tell you,” Nicky replies. “How was Nile when you parted?”

“Exhausted, pleased, a little concerned, dreading writing the after action report.”

Nicky chuckles, “That is something that never changes about command -  _ paperwork _ .”

“True. She’s only been Captain for a few months and she’s already tired of it.” Joe presses his forearm against Nicky’s chest since his hand is occupied and Nicky obeys the wordless request, shifting his hips back a little more so that they’re now fully pressed together from head to toe. 

“Did we lose anyone?” Joe asks quietly.

“Not a one,” Nicky assures him. 

Joe lets out a relieved sigh that Nicky can feel stir his hair. “That’s a relief. Nile will sleep easier tonight then.”

“When do you work again?”

“Nile moved us to Beta shift until we’re caught up on rest again. Then we’ll cycle back to Alpha. You?”

“I have to be up in eight hours to relieve the last of the triage group. After that we’ll be working twelves until we can get most of the patients discharged.”

“We’re rendezvousing with The Okinawa in the next few hours. Not sure what Nile and their captain will work out, but we might get some temporary medical officers to help with the patient load for a bit.”

“That will be a relief.” Nicky says around a yawn. “We should sleep. Cavalry or no, we both are going to have to be functional in a few short hours.”

“Yes,” Joe agrees verbally. However, while his voice agrees, his lips have returned to pressing those quiet little foot print kisses to Nicky’s neck, making it very hard to think about sleep.

Nicky lets go of Joe’s hand and reaches to cup the back of Joe’s head. He threads his fingers through the soft curls of his husband’s hair and then closes them into a fist. Joe shudders and in reply, he slides his hand down Nicky’s chest and hooks a thumb into the waistband of his boxers.

Nicky moans in wordless agreement, and Joe’s kisses take on a heavier tread. Nicky presses his ass back into the cradle of Joe’s hips. He doesn’t get to tease for very long, because Joe is turning them, pressing Nicky down onto his back and fitting his frame over top of his husband, kicking the sheet down as they go.

Here in the dark like this, Nicky feels an extra layer of awareness stretch out between them. Every touch is heightened, every gasp is deeper, every taste is wider. Pressed against each other, it feels like they occupy a small, secret, little space all their own. They’re hurtling through the stars together, faster and farther than they ever thought possible - but as wondrous as space travel is, Nicky has  _ always  _ felt like this when with Joe. Under Joe’s hands, Nicky has always felt infinite. 

“I love you,” Nicky whispers. “So much.”

“Oh my love,” Joe whispers back, “how I love you.”

“Show me.”

|||

“Captain, huh?” Andy asks around her straw, watching Nile push her food around on her tray with her fork. The younger woman doesn’t look up, just nods. 

“Well, they’re smarter than I thought they were. Picking you is clearly the best choice.”

_ That  _ makes Nile look up. She’s over two hundred years old, but getting praise like that from Andy still makes her feel like she did back in the desert of Afghanistan. Young and untried. 

“You -” Nile cuts herself off. “I can’t take it, of course.”

Andy tilts her head to the side, inquisitive. “Why the hell not? You’d be great at it.”

“Because!” Nile gestures emphatically to herself, then Andy, then the room in general and then above their heads in an all encompassing gesture. 

The older woman rolls her eyes. 

“We can deal with that. I’m not saying you need to become a Commodore or anything - nor would you want to,  _ trust me on that _ , armies haven’t changed that much - but you can say yes.”

“Isn’t that flying just a little too above the radar? We’re supposed to ya know...blend in.”

“We blend just fine.”

Nile rolls her eyes. “You and Quynh both got shot  _ yesterday _ . If Nicky hadn’t also been on the away party -”

“This is why he’s in medical to begin with. Nile, this is actually working as designed. We planned it all this way, remember?”

“The plan didn’t include me becoming a Captain.”

“Then why did you pick command track in the first place?” Andy demands. “Why not sciences? Or operations?”

“I…” Nile trails off, speechless for a second. “I...think I wanted to see if I could do it.”

“Well,” Andy gestures with a small sweep of her hand between them. “Time to see if you can do it.”

“You really don’t think it’s gonna be a problem?”

Andy shrugs, “Kid, you being a captain is not going to be an issue. You’re smart, capable, you have the presence, and keep a cool head in the face of a crisis. Those are some of the most important things about being a leader.”

“But?”

“ _ However _ , I can promise you, commanding isn’t going to be the hardest part.”

“What’s the hardest part?”

“Not being in the fight,” Andy answers readily. “Being in command means staying in the chair and watching the battle from above. Watching all the pieces, and parts moving in tandem, it’s like somehow keeping hold on the reins of a thousand horses at once. It’s difficult, but you’ve been trained for it, and trained well. No, what will be hard for  _ you _ , is knowing that we’re down on the ground level of it all, fighting, and dying and getting back up and you don’t get to be there with us.”

Nile feels a little needle of something cold and sharp, strike right down the middle of the core of her. 

“Oh,” she says quietly. “I...hadn’t thought of that.”

Andy shrugs, and slides her cup out of the way. She puts a hand on Nile’s wrist and squeezes. 

“It’s your choice,” the older woman assures her.

“I need to think about it.”

“How long ‘til Command wants an answer?”

“Tomorrow.”

“You wanna call a family meeting? Or you wanna think on it yourself some?”

“I...want to think about it on my own for a bit.”

“Okay. Come find us when you’re ready.”

Andy gets up and gathers up her tray, going ahead and shuffling Nile’s abandoned plate on to it so she can dispose of it all at once. 

“Thanks, Andy.” Nile says seriously, not talking about just the plate. 

“Don’t worry about it...Captain,” Andy replies with a smirk, striding off through the cafeteria without looking back. Nile huffs a laugh while looking down at the palms of her hands. 

Captain.

Yea, she really likes the sound of that.

|||

“...and of course when Daddy asked me what I wanted to do I didn’t hesitate to tell him I was joining Starfleet. He didn’t believe me at first. I don’t think he believed me right up until I came home in my cadet uniform the first time. Mom knew I was serious from the beginning of course; she’s retired Starfleet, you see…”

Nile’s new roommate and fellow Academy student didn’t even pause for breath as she continued to outline not only her family history but also all of the details of her recruitment. Apparently Starfleet likes its legacies. Her roommate had had officials seek her out in her last year at school to offer her a spot at the Academy. 

“...anyways then I was on the shuttle this morning which brings me here! What about you, Starfleet a family affair or are you first generation?”

The young woman’s face was guileless, and Nile knew it wasn’t a facade or anything. In all honesty, the girl came off as more than a little anxious, rather than stuck up, despite rambling about her family connections for more than twenty minutes. 

“Uh, I’m first generation for Starfleet. But my family is old school military.”

“Oh! That’s interesting. Were they happy about you joining up?”

“Yea. Surprised them, though.”

“Well I’m glad they were supportive.” she chews her lip. “I’m not really sure Dad’s on board with this you know? I’m hoping once some time passes and he gets used to it…”

Nile nods, “He’ll come around for sure.”

Their dorm room is much nicer than the digs Nile remembers from the Marines. The beds are lofted, and under each is a large desk with a comfortable chair. On one side of the bed is a full set of built in shelves and on the other is a wardrobe. The room is divided by a sort of small common area with a small couch and low coffee table. On Nile’s side of the room, up by the door out is the fresher unit, while her roommate’s side had the little kitchenette. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I went ahead and picked a side?” the girl asks, gesturing to where she’s already filled half her wardrobe and set up two whole shelves with holos of what appear to be her rather extensive family and several groups of friends. 

“Nah, this is fine.”

She looks like she’s going to say something else, but Nile’s comm beeps, interrupting them. Nile pulls out her handheld and flicks it on. Nicky’s face fills the screen, his grey eyes calm. If she didn’t know him as well as she did, Nile would think he was the picture of serenity. But it’s been two hundred years and she can see the concern in the corners of his eyes, the way he holds his mouth and the fact that he’s calling her despite the fact she saw him just four hours prior. 

“Nile,” he greets warmly, and Nile just grins at him. 

“Seriously? I  _ just _ go here.”

“We wanted to make sure you had a good flight.”

“We?”

Joe appears at the top of the screen, coming to rest his chin on the crown of his husband’s head. 

“I couldn’t bear watching him pace anymore, Nile. I made him call.”

A small hand suddenly reaches into the frame, and somehow pushes them both out of the way. Nicky squawks in protest, while Joe just laughs. The comms they’re using dips wildly and Nile catches a glimpse of Booker in the kitchen cooking, then Joe’s arm and part of his chest catching Nicky around the waist to pull him up from falling off the couch, before the camera steadies on Quynh’s triumphant face. 

“Tell us everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell yet! I’ve been here for 30 minutes!” 

“More than enough time to gather intel.”

Nicky yells something in his old Ligurian dialect that Nile hasn’t bothered to learn yet. She doesn’t really want to since he mostly uses it to seduce Joe or wax poetically at him. (How does she know this if she doesn’t speak the language? Because some things do  _ not _ require a translation to be understood. Joe and Nicky being gross and in love is definitely one of those things)

“Rude!” Quynh snaps back in English. 

“Children, don’t make me separate you.” Andy’s voice chimes in from somewhere in the room. 

“ _ Children _ ?!” Both Quynh and Nicky say in unison, their voices pitched with the same teasing affront. 

“Y’all are all crazy,” Nile announces. “I just got here, I haven’t even taken my boots off.”

“If you’re hungry I’ve already made a list of restaurants in the area -”

“Of course you did, Habibi,” Joe says from somewhere, his voice holding a fond smile.

“You don’t have to mother hen me -”

“Yes we do!” Booker yells from the back.

“No you don’t!”

“We’re going to anyway, embrace it,” Quynh says.

“Nile just hang up, they’re not going to stop,” Andy’s disembodied voice advises.

“Don’t you dare -”

“I haven’t told her about the downtown market yet!”

“Nile, make sure you check in with the bank to get your credits chip -”

“Bye Nile!” Booker is the only one with the sense to squeeze in a goodbye before Nile ends the call while laughing at the antics of her family.

When she looks up, her roommate is still standing over by her own bed, but now her eyes are wide with surprise and bemusement. 

“Wow. They sound…”

“Energetic? Insane? A mess? Trust me I’ve heard it all,” Nile says. 

“...I was going to say that they sound like they really love you.”

“Oh,” Nile responds, turning red. She’s kind of surprised she can still blush like this. But having an outsider point out how close they all are, and how much they care for one another still has the power to make her feel bashful. Happy, but bashful. 

“Yea,” the immortal agrees after a small pause. She runs a finger along the edge of her handheld, which is already lighting up with messages from Nicky. Followed closely by Quynh. And then Joe. Booker just sends her a picture of what he’s made for dinner. “We’re pretty close.”

“They’re definitely going to miss you then.”

“I’m going to miss them too,” Nile confides. “But you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if they found some reason to come visit soon. They’re ridiculous like that.” 

“Well if they want to stick around, they can always join up too! You said they were ex-military? Starfleet has fantastic transition programs for veterans.”

Nile grins and tucks her comms unit into her pocket, “You know, I may have to mention that to them. Who knows, maybe we can turn Starfleet into our own family affair, too.”

|||

(...still not an end.)

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still no clue why this exists, but I'm having a fantastic time, lol.
> 
> while the source of inspiration is a mystery, my motivation to put it all down on paper comes ENTIRELY from all the wonderful, kind and encouraging comments and kudos I received on the first chapter.
> 
> Seriously, you all are amazing. <3


End file.
